


The Eye of Argon: Remix!

by bluestrawberryiii



Category: Eye of Argon - Jim Theis
Genre: Gen, this is real and this is happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestrawberryiii/pseuds/bluestrawberryiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grignr travels to the Norgolian Empire, intent on avenging the deaths of hundreds of his people caught up in the Empire's constant expansion. But he is found out and placed in the dungeons to rot forever. During his escape, Grignr will face dark magic, traps, and evil relics. Will he escape alive? Only time will tell!</p>
<p>This is an adaptation of a legendary short story, the Eye of Argon, for one of my writing classes. Nobody can replicate the mastery Jim Theis had over his craft, but I hope to do the story some justice!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was inspired by the story The Eye of Argon (http://www.rdrop.com/~hutch/argon). I tried to keep it as close to the original as possible, so if you know you were triggered or disturbed by anything in the original story, be careful! I will be posting anything I think would be trigger-y in the notes at the beginning of each chapter, though I think it's safe to say my version will be more toned-down. Stay safe, and enjoy the story!

The tavern Grignr found himself in could not be described as ‘reputable’ in any way. But after his long trek through the dusty, barren climes of the inner Norgolian Empire, he was just glad to finally be in the capital city of Gorzam. As soon as he entered the establishment, Grignr was hit with the stench of sweaty bodies and cheap wine. Noise pressed in on him from all sides and, for just a moment, he thought he was at the tavern back home in Ecordia, surrounded by friends and countrymen gathering together for an evening of good drink and song. But that tavern was gone. Nothing but a pile of blackened wood, just like the rest of his village.

At the fringes of the room, Grignr spied a young woman sitting alone. She nursed a large mug and every now and then glanced around. When she saw him approaching, she tensed and hid her face behind her soft orchid hair, looking at everything besides Grignr.

He sat down next to her, keeping a bit of distance between them in case she decided to run.

“You are very beautiful,” he grunted. It wasn’t much, but Grignr couldn’t think of any other way to start a conversation.

Oddly, this made her shoulders relax and she risked a glance at him, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “You are not from here,” she said, taking in his bright red hair, so uncommon in the deserts of Simaria.

“Neither are you.”

“True.” She smiled wistfully. “Though I might as well be. I haven’t any other home.”

Grignr opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, roughly pushing him away. The woman gasped and stood up, only to be grabbed by one of two men.

“This woman is coming with us,” growled the newcomer. He had the armor of a member of the royal guard. In his partner’s hand was a sword, thrumming with electricity and ready to kill.

“What is the meaning of this?” Grignr asked over the woman’s cries of distress. Everyone else in the tavern had grown silent.

“This wench is to be brought to King Agaphim's chambers immediately. It is not your business why.”

Grignr looked to the woman. There was panic and fear in her stunning blue eyes. “Perhaps it _should_ be my business. She and I were having a conversation.” He stood up slowly, towering over the guardsman and glowering down at him.

But the smaller man showed no fear. “Get her out of here,” he said to his partner. “I will take care of this Ecordian scum.”

That was the last straw. “You insult my people, even after so many died honorably by your blades.” There was a fury swirling about Grignr, kept just barely in check. “You Norgolian dogs and your king are the real scum.”

“Watch your tongue, Ecordian! You dare speak ill of Agaphim, chosen by Sargon himself? You and the rest of your kind deserve to die!” He spat at Grignr’s feet.

A sword swung at the guard’s head, just narrowly missing him. He stepped back and grinned, looking at the pure hate in Grignr’s eyes. “Not even a shock sword? You Ecordians really are barbarians!” He swiped his own sword, glowing blue with energy.

It flew in a humming arc and slashed into Grignr’s stomach, drawing blood and dropping the warrior to the ground, convulsing as the shocks traveled throughout his body.

Before he blacked out, Grignr saw the guard motion to a few of the patrons sitting nearby. “You, there! Help me take him to the palace. Agaphim will want to hear about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i added a bit of sci-fi, since this story was originally published in a science fiction magazine. its mostly fantasy, but there will be little hints of technology throughout the story (like the shock sword in this chapter)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay potential triggers include: mentions of torture, mentions of violence, and violent deaths (the descriptions are not graphic)

Grignr opened his eyes to the sight of a lush garden, lovingly illuminated by the moon’s shimmering rays. The exotic plants led up to the entrance of the palace: looming over everything that dared stand near its shadow and glittering golden in the moonlight. He was led through the gilded double doors and down several many-tapestried corridors before they reached the throne room.

Seated on the golden throne and flanked by two guards on either side was the man Grignr had most wanted to meet since the day the Norgolian army had marched into his hometown and taken everything that had ever mattered to him: Agaphim, king of the Norgolian Empire.

He was short, and his many rolls of fat were draped in regal blue silk that spilled down the ivory steps leading up to his throne. Agaphim leaned forward in his throne. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

“Your majesty,” said the guardsman, bowing deeply. “This…Ecordian,”—he spat out the word like it was a rotten apple—“Was found in a bar not far from here. He insulted your honor, your grace.”

Agaphim considered Grignr for a moment. “Down on your knees, lout, and pay proper homage to your sovereign! Perhaps, if you are appropriately penitent, I will not be forced to discipline you.”

“You think,” growled Grignr, “That I would bow down to you? How dare you claim to be my king, when all you have done for my people is send your armies to kill them? I kneel to no man, least of all you!” He spat on the quartz-tiled floor. When he looked up, Agaphim’s face was pale as the grave, save for the spots of color on his cheeks.

The soldier that had brought him in slammed the hilt of his shock sword into Grignr’s temple, causing his vision to blotch and blur. He swayed to the side and toppled onto the cold floor. Nobody caught him.

Agaphim’s shrill laughter cut through Grignr’s mind. “That will teach him to know his place! Now, Agafnd.” He turned to his advisor, a sneering man to his right. “I think that the Vault of Misery would be a fitting fate for this uncouth fiend. His agony would be long and drawn out before he met the sweet release of death. What say you?” The horror within Grignr grew with every bit of regained consciousness. Surely, torture was not the standard punishment for speaking ill of the king?

Agafnd stroked his pointed beard. “Perhaps, my king. However, I know much of these Ecordian barbarians. These demons are descended from the evil god Argon himself, and enjoy pain almost as much as they enjoy killing. I fear that he would enjoy the Vault of Misery much too well for it to qualify as a punishment.” He paused for a moment, to gauge Agaphim’s reaction and ensure that he was safe in contradicting his king’s sentence. Everyone in the room, including Grignr, leaned in. Agafnd took a deep breath. “May I suggest, instead, a life of labor in one of your many mines? There is a caravan coming to pick up new laborers in just a few weeks’ time. A long life of boredom would be infinitely more unbearable than a life of pain cut short by an executioner’s block.”

“As always, Agafnd, you speak the truth.” Agaphim was smiling. But Grignr’s heart was beating so quickly he was sure it would burst from his chest. “We can send him to the underground dungeons until then.”

With the trained grace of a lifelong warrior, Grignr flowed from the ground and drew the shock sword of the guard nearest to him, cutting the man clean through in the process. “Seize him!” cried Agaphim. The guards that surrounded him surged forward, and Grignr cut down each one as he advanced on Agaphim. Agafnd stepped in front of his liege, and was shoved aside. He hit the ivory steps with a crunch and didn’t get back up.

“Where is your power now, _your majesty_?” Grignr pointed the humming sword at Agaphim, who whimpered and sweated but refrained from saying a word. Everything outside of his sword tip at Agaphim’s neck burned away into a crimson blur at the back of Grignr’s mind. Which is why he didn’t notice a new set of palace guards filing into the room until Agaphim’s face twisted into a smile.

“What are you…?” Grignr turned around just in time to see an elegant pike raise in an arc above his head and come crashing down into his forehead. Darkness greeted him like an old friend, and soon the buzzing in his ears subsided into silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (wow grignr blacks out a lot at the end of chapters whoops. last time that happens i swear)  
> ok so i tried to keep even the descriptions of things true to the original ("a lush garden, lovingly illuminated by the moon’s shimmering rays" was directly taken from "plush vegetation lustfully enhanced by the moon's shimmering rays"). even so, i left out the blatant sexual relations between king agaphim and his adviser, agafnd ("The man upon the throne had a naked wench seated at each of his arms, and a trusted advisor seated in back of him."). sorry to all the phimfnd shippers; i know its canon, but i really just dont ship it as anything more than a bromance :(


End file.
